The chief honour outside his school that fell to Addison was the Presidency of the Royal Medical and Chirurgical Society. But court favour did not shine on him, though none would have more worthily received it. On the Continent, as we have before said, Addison was treated with the utmost distinction. When he visited Paris, Nélaton, Trousseau and the élite of the profession entertained him at a public dinner, and gave him the warmest reception. Addison made an eloquent speech in excellent French. He was a zealous Tory, not approving of Disraeli’s modernised policy, but equally removed from Eldon’s tyrannical rule. Guy’s Museum of Pathology, adorned by an admirable bust of him by Joseph Towne, bears large testimony to Addison’s energy and discernment. He added to it very largely, and his early study of skin diseases led him to suggest and superintend in execution a plan for illustrating skin diseases by wax models, and carefully coloured drawings from life—a process afterwards extended widely through the range of pathology. “Every feature of Addison’s face,” says Dr. Lonsdale, “was well defined, and comported well with his finely-proportioned massive head. He had dark hair, large eyebrows, and eyes of deep hazel colour; his nose was pronounced, his lips full and voluble, and rather special in action, and his chin firm and broad; and his general physiognomy was stamped with vigour and unmistakable character throughout. He had a deep penetrating eye, that became full of life and light when engaged in debate. Of commanding presence and firm significant step, he possessed a keen penetrativeness, indeed a special discernment that never failed him in private life, and but rarely at the bedside of the sick. He stood before you the impersonation of power and dignity and independence.” Some persons who knew him well believed that he would have had equal success at the bar, in the senate, in the navy or the Church. Whatever he attempted, he would have mastered, and would have carried out, undisturbed by opposition, undeviating in principle. Dr. Addison did not marry till he was some years over fifty. His wife was the widow of W. W. Hanxwell, Esq. The wedding, in September 1847, took place in Lanercost Church, and was attended by an unusual incident. Just before the ceremony, and unknown to the party, a storm had blown part of the roof of the church on to the altar table. When he saw the wreckage, Addison exclaimed to his biographer, nervously clutching his arm, “Good God, Lonsdale! is this not ominous?” But his friend, suggesting that any part of the building would do for the ceremony, and the bride smilingly showing no diminution of cheerfulness, reassured the doctor, and all went off well. Mrs. Addison, who had two children by her first husband, but none by the second, survived Dr. Addison twelve years. She is described as extremely amiable, and an excellent wife.